A/N: Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others; I wanted to go ahead and post this little scene, rather than try to write a second scene in this chapter. No FGM in this one. Oh, and a fair note of warning to all of you; this may actually be a little bit longer than 'Just a Tear Drop Away'. Right now it's looking like at least four more chapters, which would put it at the same length; however, I never know when another idea is going to pop up. Something totally unexpected happened while I was writing THIS chapter, and it added an entire new facet to the story. So, we'll see.

As always, thanks for the reviews (however few and far between they're getting), I own nothing except Frederick, and I hope you all enjoy!

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It was almost dusk in Far Far Away, that hour of the day where things begin to fall between light and shadow. Dusk was Lillian's favorite time of day; it was the only time she really took for herself. Running a kingdom took a lot of time out of one's life, and Far Far Away was as much Lillian's kingdom as it was Harold's. She was the one who usually dealt with the people's problems; Harold simply didn't have the patience to listen to people whining. There were always problems to deal with and proper procedures to follow. Even when the day was done, there were still things to do; after the sun set Lillian would have to get ready for dinner. Tonight it was with the family, Fiona and Shrek included, and it was going to be the first pleasant dinner they would all have together. Lillian was looking forward to it, but it was still nice to have her alone time. She always liked having time to reflect.

In good weather, she spent the small amount of time she had in the royal gardens; that's where she was at the moment, carrying around a small watering can and tending to the flowers. There were royal gardeners to take care of most things, but Lillian liked to have a few rosebushes of her own, kept as a reminder of her older sister, Rose, who lived several kingdoms away and rarely had the chance to visit. She smiled a little to herself as she ran her fingers lightly over the petals of a red bloom, highlighted gold by the fading afternoon sunlight.

Everyone knew that her time in the gardens was sacred and meant to be uninterrupted; it was her own private time. Therefore she was quite surprised when a page approached her.

"Yes, what is it?" she asked him politely, smiling; she didn't believe in snapping at a servant, even if she was being interrupted.

"Excuse me, your majesty," the page said, bowing quickly before straightening up. "But there's a man here and he wishes to speak to you."

"Didn't you tell him that I don't wish to be interrupted this time of day?" she asked, her voice still gentle. He nodded hesitantly.

"Well, yes, but he said to tell you that it's Prince Frederick....he didn't really look like a prince, but he seemed to think you would know who he is," the messenger continued. Lillian thought for a moment, trying to remember where she knew that name, until it suddenly hit her that Frederick was sort of the black sheep of Far Away's royal family.

"Show him in, then," she said. The page hurried off, and Lillian sighed a little. A queen's work was never done. She set her watering can aside and straightened her dress a little, then folded in hands in front of her and waited.

"I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, your majesty," Frederick called as he strode into the garden.

"Hello, your highness," Lillian greeted warmly, offering her hand to the middle-aged prince. He dropped briefly to one knee and kissed her hand, more out of habit than anything else. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm in some desperate need of advice, and everyone always says that you're the person to come to," he explained, then hesitated. "I...well, you might not exactly be on good terms with the woman I need advice about, but..." he trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

"What sort of advice do you need?" Lillian asked, gesturing for Frederick to sit down with her on garden bench. He obliged, taking a deep breath before he spoke again.

"You see, I just found out last night that...that someone I thought didn't even exist anymore DOES still exist....only, you see, it seems that she hates me now, only I overheard her singing to herself last night and it sounds like she DOES still have feelings for me...." As he spoke, Lillian had to hide a smile; he sounded very much like a young boy trying to explain something without tattling on himself.

"Well, have you tried talking to her?" Lillian asked patiently.

"That's the trouble. I DID try, but she slammed the door in my face. So that didn't go all that well," he said, sighing. "I don't know if I should try to talk to her again, or try some other kind of tactic. She's a bit stubborn and proud...well, all right, she's VERY stubborn and proud. And I don't know if she would actually listen to me. It's been quite a few years...I mean, song or no song, she might not love me anymore."

Lillian paused for a moment, digesting all the information. Then she finally asked, "Do you still love her?"

Frederick sighed mournfully. "I...I don't know, actually. I thought I did, then when she started screaming at me last night....I just don't know. But I would like to at least talk to her, maybe get to know her again...I mean..." Here, he paused, almost embarrassed, but cleared his throat and continued. "Well, I found out yesterday that I share a son with her."

While Frederick had talked, Lillian had been watching his face as she listened...there was something oddly familiar about him, and it was more than the fact that she had met him several times before at royal functions. It was a vague familiarity, but it was very recently imprinted into her mind. Suddenly, things clicked into place, and she asked quite abruptly, "Is Charming the son?"

"Erm, well, yes, actually," Frederick replied, then grinned a little ruefully. "I suppose the resemblance is pretty strong. And the boy seems like he wants to talk to me, but Belinda..."

"Belinda?" Lillian interrupted, questioning.

"The Fairy Godmother. That used to be her name," he explained, then sighed. "I just don't know what to do about her."

"Perhaps there's nothing you can do," Lillian said gently. "I don't know for certain, but...it seems to me that she isn't the same person you used to know."

"If only I could get her to talk to me....or....perhaps have someone talk to her for me..." Frederick said slowly, an idea dawning on him. He looked up at Lillian, hopeful. "Do you suppose you could...?"

"I don't think that would be a wise choice. After all, things are a bit tense between all parties involved right now," she said quickly. Frederick sighed and nodded.

"You're right, of course. I just wish there were some way I could get her where she can't slam the door in my face..."

"Perhaps if we arranged some sort of ball...there's always a multitude of excuses for balls around here, and she would be bound to attend. Especially if she's asked to sing," Lillian suggested.

"It's worth thinking about, although I'm not sure whether or not just a ball is going to work. If only there were some other way to get her attention...or if only --"

"Mom?" a voice called, interrupting Frederick. "Are you coming in to -- oh, sorry..." Fiona appeared in the garden, looking somewhat embarrassed when she realized her mother wasn't alone. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"That's quite all right, your highness," Frederick replied, rising from the bench. "I'm afraid I've taken up too much of her majesty's time already. I'll just be going now."

"No, wait just a moment," Lillian said, putting her hand up in an indication for him to stay put. She seemed deep in thought, gazing contemplatively at the red roses. "Perhaps...oh, dear, I'm not sure this would really be the best course of action. I've always believed that honesty is the best policy, but sometimes you have to fib a little to make someone appreciate something..."

Fiona stood listening in silence, hoping that her mother would explain everything to her later. Frederick stared blankly at the queen for a moment before replying slowly, "Well...the best way I can think of to make Belinda appreciate something is to make her jealous..."

"Exactly," Lillian said, smiling a little. "And I think I know just the woman for the job."